


Siren's Song

by cryysis



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M, Humans, Mermaids, Not really a part of the BJT fandom, Sirens, Though the OC's were originally created with that world in mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 07:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20403823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryysis/pseuds/cryysis
Summary: The Kraken will drag your ship to the bottom of the sea. A sea witch will steal your soul and leave your bones for the briny deep. Jones will offer you a deal, and haggle you into eternity.But the mermaids. They are the Ladies of the Waves, the call on the rocks. Mermaids are sweet and will sing you to your demise. They are cousins to their warriors, the siren’s who drag their sailors beneath the waves. The siren’s do not sing so often as their lovely cousins, but any sailor will tell you their song is twice as deadly. Nothing breaks the spell of a siren’s call, and no man who has ever heard it with his own ears is ever seen again.They both knew what she was. But she never sang for him. He never understood why.And now she’s gone.





	Siren's Song

**Author's Note:**

> Characters my own and a friends. Inspired by the fact that she loves her happy endings, and sometimes I just want to tear my heart out.
> 
> Love you Wills. <3

He kneeled on the dock, untying his boat from its post . The morning was soft and misty, the sun a dying candle through the fog. He could hear the water as it lapped gently at the posts beneath him, the small waves breaking against the rocky cliffs of the lighthouse. When he raised his head to drop the rope into the boat, he saw ribbons of copper and brass floating by the wood.

So. She was back.

*

He had never believed in ghosts and monsters before he saw her. Never believed in the stories old drunk sailors shouted at the taverns, the ones about sea witches and the Kraken, Davy Jones and his locker.  _ Mermaids _ .

Then one day out at sea he saw something circling beneath his boat. He’d no notion of what it was, only that it seemed to pose no threat to him. But his nets had been moved by the currents, and he had to fetch them back. 

\--

“You stink like human,” she said tartly.

“I always smell like a human. I  _ am _ one, if you remember.”

“But even more so when you come back from your ‘mar-kets.’ I do not like it then. You should swim in the ocean more. The smell will lessen.”

He almost mocked her, but then she would get angry and leave. He wasn't ready for her to go yet. “If I don't go to the markets I don't get paid. Eli and I would have no money for food.”

“Money. You have said that word before. It is how humans trade?”

“Mhm. We trade money for food and goods.”

“And this money, what does it look like?”

Quirking a brow, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins. She picked one up from his hand with her claws? Talons? And took her time inspecting it. “If you had more of this, you would not have to go to the mar-ket as often?”

“Not as often, no. But in order to have more of it I have to work for it, and that means going to the market.” He grinned. “And stinking like a human.”

She wrinkled her nose and handed him back the coin. They didn’t speak of it again, and he thought nothing of it when she didn’t return to the docks the next day, or the day after. 

\--

It was a while before she spoke again. “I have something for you.”

He turned to look at her, raising a brow in mild concern. “It’s not more money, is it? I’ll end up getting robbed at this rate.”

She waves a clawed hand dismissively. “It is not money, no. And did you not say you are a warrior? Fight them off if they trouble you so much.”

He didn’t bother telling her he’d already dealt with a few. “What do you have then?”

“A gem,” she said. “You will wear it.”

“Oh really?”

She frowned at him, displeased with his reaction. “Why do you question me? You will do this.”

“I’m not a woman. I don’t wear jewelry.”

“You will wear this.”

He sighed, hiding the quirk of his mouth with his hand. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

She eyed him shrewdly, judging the measure of his words. Then she smiled, sharp and knowing. “Because I have said so. You will like it, it is your color.” 

With that, she opened one of the small straps of her belt and pulled out a long golden chain. When she held it up for him to see, his eyes landed on the large garnet pendant, uncut but polished by the waves. 

“And what is this supposed to be?”

“You are foolish for a human,” she ignored his snort of exasperated amusement, raising herself higher in the water to reach around his neck.

The sudden closeness of her drew him short. She muttered to herself as she fumbled with the trinket’s clasp, the wet tendrils of her hair catching against the stubble of his cheek. For the first time with her, he allowed himself a brief moment of weakness: he turned just enough to smell the ocean in her hair. Unbidden, his hand moved to feel those strands between the pads of his fingers, but it was not to be. She pulled away, inspecting her handy-work with an air of satisfaction. 

His eyes were drawn to hers as her fingers settled over the stone hanging at his chest. She leaned close to the jewel, pressing it to her lips and whispering in something that sounded like another language. This time their eyes caught; his warm with something he wasn’t ready to name, and hers brimming with power.

He tried to speak, but had to clear his throat against the dryness in his mouth. He gave her a look when he thought he heard her laugh, but she only smiled, sharp and playful. Damn her. “So. What, uh… what was that?”

“A blessing,” she answered, fingers moving to the stone again. “Whenever you travel out to sea, if the winds are too strong, this will tame them for you. If a storm approaches, this will make the currents remove you from its path. Do not abuse its power, and you will be safe.”

The longer she spoke, the more he heard the distant call of a song in his mind. He would swear she wasn’t singing, and yet…

His fingers found her cheek, and she looked up to him in surprise. Their eyes held for a long moment, and the call grew sweeter, more and more tempting the longer their gazes met. Tentatively, her hand moved to his cheek, mirroring his touch. His eyes closed of their own volition, pressing more fully into her hand…

“ _ Lyyy!” _

Eli’s voice pulled him back to his reality, and he looked to their home where she was calling him from.

The siren was quiet when she spoke, as if reluctant to break the bubble surrounding their world. “You love her, yes? Your sister?”

Lysander’s smile was small but fond. “She’s a brat when she wants something, but yes. 

I love my sister.”

He could hear the smile in her voice now. “And your human mate? She has your love?”

_ Luciel _ . The thought of his dead fiance twisted his heart, his hand dropping from her cheek to curl to a fist in his lap. “There is always a part of me that loves her. She’ll hold my heart for the rest of my days.”

“Good,” she said, slipping back into the water. “It is late. I must return.”

He nodded in understanding. It was for the best. He could still hear the echoes of a song in his mind. “When are you coming back?”

She looked to the sky as she took a moment to think. “The moon will be at full circle tomorrow. Use the blessing the day after. I will return three days from then.”

“So five days from now,” he said, swallowing hard at her nod of agreement. “What if I want to see you before then?”

She looked briefly surprised, but then pleased. She tapped the center of her chest, where the stone lay on his. “If you have need of me, hang the stone in water and call to me with your heart. I will hear it, and come when I can.” With a parting nod, she dove below, disappearing beneath the waves.

Eli called his name again, and Lysander stood to full height, hand going to the pendant. “With my heart, huh?” He lifted it, bringing the cool gem to his lips where hers had rested. “Damn.”

\--

He didn’t know how to tell her that it didn’t matter that she never sang for him. Her voice rang in his mind day and night. It came to him, louder and louder, until even a whisper sounded like a song.

\--

“You lied!”

“I didn’t lie! I told you--”

“You said your heart belonged to another! Your human mate, you told me you loved her!”

“I  _ did _ love her! A part of me always will.” Anger and frustration burned in his throat, but he fought for patience. “But Luciel is gone and buried. She has been for three years now.” Admitting it out loud didn’t hurt anymore, and he needed to make her understand. “I loved my fiance, Lady. But she wouldn’t want me to wallow in despair. I know she would want me to try.” He dropped to a knee at the edge of the dock, pleading with her. “Hearts change, Xotchil,” he tried to ignore her flinch at his use of her name, “and mine is calling to you.”

“No,” the siren’s eyes were filling with tears, fierce, and full of rage and despair. “I will not sing for you, human. You will stay here, where you belong. You will  _ stay. _ ”

“You can’t make me  _ stay _ !”

His yell drew her up short. Her eyes, green as the ocean she swam in, considered the man before her--and her shoulders sagged, the rage leaving her. All that remained was the despair, making her small, sad… almost human. “No. I cannot make you stay.” She shook her head, and the despair left her too, and instead he was faced with the warriors determined stare. “But I can go where you cannot.”

His eyes go wide. It hadn’t occurred to him that his might be her answer. That asking to go with her would make her leave. “What--Xotchil--”

“I will not return. Good-bye, Lysander.” She dove beneath the surface, vanishing into the brine.

“Wait!” The water stung his eyes as he jumped in after her. He lost precious seconds getting back to the surface, desperate for a flash of copper tail. “Xotchil!” The water was ice on his skin, but he couldn’t stop. Stopping meant losing her, and losing her-- “ _ Xotchil! _ ” 

He swims as far as his body will let him, and nearly drowns from the effort. He only survives because instinct drives him, and he treads water, screaming against the crashing waves surrounding him. “ _ Xotchil! _ ”

The shouts of her name don’t bring her back, and the combination of freezing waters and the storm moving in forces him back to the dock. He’s a shaking mess on the water logged wood, body wracked with cold and pelting rain coming down on his head. He has to get inside before he dies of hypothermia, but he can’t give up. He’ll find her, somehow.

Days turn into weeks, and there’s no sign of his siren. He’s been careful about spending the gold pieces she left him before she disappeared, but eventually he has to go back to work. He dreads every day of it, the sickening smell of human sweat and rotting fish making his gorge rise. It’s no wonder she hated the smell.

Night after night he goes back to the docks, heart aching. He knows his ship isn’t enough to survive a long trip out to sea, or he’d have gone looking for her already. And he can’t leave Eli. So he waits.

And every night as he dips the cool garnet stone into the water, calling with everything he is for her… every night, he hopes.  
  



End file.
